◾ ...but some of us are looking at the stars

◾ 2008-03-15

2008-03-15

I am quite remarkably calm tonight. For the moment. Posted another IOY while listening to the strangest of the strange in my music collection. One minute it's grrl rock, the next 60's compliations, the next classical. If I start to go any further back in time I'll be listening to two guys banging rocks together.

And the rest is silence.

Actually. I lied. I am a bit angry. Watched the clip of the Oklahoma representative, Sally Kern this afternoon, not long after reading more about the Scottish bishop Joseph Devine. One is informing us that the homosexual lifestyle is being indoctrinated into children as young as 2 (I thought that pre-school education in the US started later than that - are the gays passing out flyers at play parks?) , the other warning of of huge and well orchestrated conspiracy created by the gays to attack Christian Values. (I know nothing about this which makes me a little huffy. Was I too busy ordering my DVD's and missed the memo? If we were planning a mass attack on Values then I should at least be heading one of the assault teams.)

Urgh. I know I shouldn't get annoyed at these right wing bigots. It's a pointless waste of time and perfectly good fury that could be directed towards nuclear arms, the new bloody Budget, whaling or David Yates. But it exasperates me so thoroughly. How people like that can still exist in the modern world.

We're not too bad in Britain on the political side. We've had the 'difficult' debates on section 28, lowering the gay male consent age and the right to civil union. It's not great but it could be worse. And this is in comparison to the Religious Right of the the Republican party. Abortion is never a campaign issue in General/Holyrood elections, yet it still remains a bit part of American politics. That amazes me.

It amazes me that a small minority of people who are so stout in their bigoted, backward opinions seek public office to, in large part, impose their opinions on the country. Many of whom according to polls, do not agree with them. However, this section of society is largely quiet whereas the Neo-conservatives and the religious right are banging on my door, giving me magazines and once - stopped me on Elm Row to tell me how I could be saved. Elm Row in Edinburgh is right in the heart of the pink triangle, so they positioned themselves nicely.

You know what sucked (going completely OT)? All my time, living ten minutes down the road from JKR and never once did I see her. Never once did she come round to mine for a cup of tea. Never once did she show me the epilogue so I would have a chance to incinerate it before the rest of the world saw. My old flatmate Callum saw her loads of times in Sainsbury's. That little bitch never once spoke to her. Idiot. The most famous author in the world and he just went on his merry way. He's not really a fan but used to love taking the piss out of me. All the news I have is she wears clacky high heels and buys good, simple food as well as the 2 for 1 deals. She's classy.

Hm. The rage is gone. Maybe because JKR soothed me by telling me that Dumbledore's gay, which, TBH, was quite obvious in book 7. Nice to have the confirmation. I wonder if she was at all influenced by slash in her decision?

So now I pull on my black balaclava and sheath my samurai sword to go and give the chance to those two bigoted fools to revise their opinions. I will stand up for Dumbledore if no one else will.

I've just watched Southland Tales because I was cold, tired and in need of a lie down so I thought that meant I'd be suitably clear headed and focused on it.

Didn't make a bit of fucking difference.

I have seen a lot of weird stuff in my time. A lot more crazy ridiculous wanky wank art is done in theatre than on film and I've seen too much that I don't usually get that arsed when a film goes in that direction.

Let me also say, I'd been looking forward to it. It sounded interesting, I always like to catch up with the Buffy alumni (except Bones. I point blank refuse. That shit is retarded.) and I thought Darko was quite a film.

I got what was happening and the more I think about it now I can vaguely track the through line of the story. But alot of it was quite pointless. It was well shot, art direction was lovely but I felt let down that such grand concepts (apocalypse, souls, dimension, warfare) were so scrappily dealt with.

It's terrible to say that my favourite part was SMG dancing with slow dancing Mandy Moore, isn't it? I don't even particulary fancy either of them but I do believe Kelly was thinking "Shit, it's been two hours. I've had too many shots of the Rock with his shirt off. Right, I'll jam in a nice well lit visual scene with two lovely ladies dancing. That'll wake that chick from Scotland up long enough so that she sees the ending."

I will usually give a fucked up film like this until the credits to explain itself or to do something so it doesn't need to. But as soon as that first end title was up, I was WTF-ing all over the place. I can't quite remember the name of the last film that did that to me, but I know the one before it was Anchorman. I don't generally respond well to that kind of crap.

But Southland Tales is the kind of film that makes me think that if I didn't like it then I must be the stupid, uncultured one. It's not the films fault, it's mine.